Remembering Renesmee
by shootingstarx7
Summary: A tragic accident caused her to lose both her memory, and her family beside the pack, but Nessie learned to live with it for many years. Now, as she starts her junior year in high school, things begin to change. Nessie will rediscover herself. please r&r!
1. Wake Me Up When September Ends: Renesmee

Wake Me Up When September Ends.

I'd have hoped that my alarm clock would've woken me up on the first day of school, but of course not. I _had_ to get hit square in the head by a big, fat, raindrop that fell from my leaking roof. Instinctively, I scrambled out of bed, grumbling and half awake. I walked out into the kitchen, where I pulled the cabinet door open as quickly as I could.

CRASH!

A cascade of big plastic bowls, large pots, and frying pans came tumbling down on me. I'd gotten whacked pretty good by a cooking pot. I cursed loudly, as I rubbed my aching head. There was definitely going to be a bruise there, I figured.

And you know what? Normally, none of this would have bothered me. Usually, I would have laughed at this. But, the last month has been-different. Let's leave it at that.

As I knelt down to pick up the pans, someone came up behind me. I felt that someone touch my shoulder and I jumped. I could feel a headache and a bad mood coming on at the same time, and combined with being half awake, I was like a nuclear power plant on a fault line. "Geez," Was all I said.

Jake helped me pick up the mess I'd made. "'Woke me up," He said with a faint smile, "What's going on?"

I rolled my eyes, which sort of contradicted my smile, which was basically a reflection of his. "My roof leaked again," I said, "I only wanted one bowl. But with my luck…" I added, indicating the scattered miscellaneous cooking equipment that had just attacked me. Jake laughed.

We started to pick up the bowls first. I stood up quickly like I was used to doing, and put the bowls in the cabinet. As soon as I lowered my arm, though, the room began to spin. I exhaled nervously. The room was spinning faster and faster. I clapped my hand on my aching forehead. I might have even moaned.

"Are you okay?" Jake asked me, clearly concerned, as he came to my side. My mouth was beginning to fall asleep.

"I'm f-f-fine," I managed to say. My brain knew exactly what it wanted me to say, but my mouth just couldn't say it. Now, I was_ really_ afraid.

"What's going on with you?" Jake asked me.

That was the one question that I didn't want to hear. I clutched my tingling jaw. Thankfully, the weirdness was beginning to fade away. I thought about telling Jake about the last month, I really did, but I knew I couldn't. If Jake knew that I'd stopped hunting for an entire month to have things in common with humans, he might just take advantage of my weakness and kill me for it.

Instead I said something lame like "naogling," Which made him ask me what I'd just said. I only shook my head. He got the picture; _nothing, never mind. _

At this point, I didn't care about the leak in my ceiling. I had to fix my weird headache. I was beginning to think that I was getting a migraine like my best friend, Laine always gets. I didn't want that. She made it look so painful, and I bet it really was worse than she showed.

I barged straight into my room and shut the door quickly. I had an emergency stash of pain-killing pills under my bed that nobody knew about. No, I'm not a druggie, I was just preparing for the worst. Like now.

With greater difficulty than usual, I read the back label of the small, white container. If you think the small writing is bad, try being a dyslexic with a migraine. It's not fun. Despite my difficulties, I was able to decipher the writing in a good five minutes. By then my temples were roaring in pain.

I quickly uncapped the pill bottle, and let two small circular pills fall into my palm. I then put them in my mouth. Oh God, was I supposed to swallow them? Not knowing how to take my pills, and feeling rather stupid, I spit them back out into my hand.

I looked up and around, thinking, bottle in one hand, pills in the other, and then I noticed someone standing in the door. Jake was checking up on me. Oh, how I hated being half vampire…

"So _that's_ it," was all Jake said, and I had no time to explain. I shoveled the pills back into my mouth, and set the rest on my night-stand, and trailed after him.

"That's _not_ it," I practically yelled, and he stopped.

"Then what _is_ it, Nessie?" He asked, enraged, "Why have you been acting so weird, lately?"

He stared at me with intense anger. I might have flinched. "Um," I murmured quietly, like a scared puppy (if scared puppies could talk), "I can't tell you." I said weakly.

"Oh yeah, and that totally proves your point." He threw his hands into the air, and turned his back on me to look out the window.

"It makes sense," I added to hopefully lighten his mood, "If you don't think about it,"

"Huh!" He grunted. I was shot down.

Soon, we heard footsteps coming down the stairs with a loud _clunk, clunk, clunk._ It was Seth, and he was half-awake. Great. "What's all the noise?" He asked.

Jake sighed angrily before he accused me again of getting high on painkillers. I tried to argue, but every time I did, my temples throbbed more and more. I wanted to scream. Seth kept looking between me and Jake, trying to figure out who was telling the truth.

Then Leah came down. Now, you've probably heard the saying _One's company, two's a crowd, and three's a party. _That is totally wrong_. _This was definitely anything but a party. If you get three half-awake, grumpy, werewolves in the same room, you're pretty much in trouble. One's accusing you of popping pills, two's glaring at you like you just killed his grandmother because he thinks you're lying, and three's about to drop kick you right on the spot for waking her up.

Sounds like fun to me. Not.

So, needless to say, I was very excited for school this morning. Alpha dog called off the pack and after a good long lecture/shouting match, he finally allowed me to get ready for, and go to school. That's exactly what I did. The best part about today so far, was how my headache seemed to be fading away a little bit, from my excessive drug use. (Ha-ha.)

I walked about a half a mile through rainy woods until I reached my school-Rosedale High School, population 367, home of the Renegades. I'd never been so happy to return here, and the fact was, I was barely happy to see the stupid brick building at all. Right as I approached the concrete walk, the bell rang.

I was late, as usual.

Quickly, I scoured my bag until I found my schedule. I opened it up wide to find which homeroom I had to sprint to. By the time I'd gotten inside, my paper was dotted with big, fat, raindrops. I had to run upstairs to room 216, Mr. Brighton's homeroom. I groaned. I had Brighton last year and the year before, and right now, I basically guaranteed a detention.

I stepped through the doors and looked around the lobby for an excuse-a reason to be late. There were a bunch of new freshmen and new students from other schools rushing around and getting lost, but I wasn't either of those anymore. I was now a junior, and according to Mr. Brighton, that meant I needed to be responsible, have a good work ethic, and be on time. He made sure he ground that into my cerebrum in the two prior years of his hellish detentions.

In his eyes, I wasn't what I should be in order to be successful. He'd even said that. But who cares about him anyway?

In my eyes, I was always responsible for my own secret-that I'm half vampire, and I was raised by a bunch of basically bipolar werewolves who almost ate my face off for the last few weeks because I haven't, well, been "eating" right, and they don't know it. I guess I've been acting weird to them, but I _like_ the difference. It's so annoying when I'm at school in gym class, and I have to explain why I almost shattered the glass on the basketball hoop. (That's not exactly a picnic.)

And what does he know about work ethic? It takes me twice the effort of an average person in school because I'm dyslexic. Reading books is maddening. I often get frustrated and impatient because I have to read one line at a time, and unscramble the words one-by-one. Before I went on a "diet," I used to have it easier, because I never got headaches. Now, it's just another thing I have to deal with.

As much as I hate to admit it, about the late thing, Brighton was kind of right. I have to give the old simpleton some credit there. It's not like I'm going to sit here and make excuses, but I have legitimate reasons why I'm late, even though I'd never say them to Brighton. _Sorry I'm late! Three werewolves tried to reenact an episode of Intervention!_ No, I don't think that would fly very well…

Now that we've got that cleared up… Where was I? Oh, yeah.

I was now, desperately searching for a good excuse to be late to the old coot's class. My mission didn't seem very promising. Until…

"Ms. Green!" I shouted, quickly crossing the main lobby, and I followed her into the guidance office.

Ms. Green was the person I went to every time Brighton compromised my self esteem. (Or tried to, at least.) She was the only person I knew who hated him (almost) as much as I do. A while back, Mr. Brighton was actually principal (for some stupid reason), Ms. Green had told me, and he tried to have her fired. Well, she turned out to be the wrong person to mess with. The school department had found so much dirt on Brighton, he had to settle for teaching eleventh grade English.

Oh. Crap. I tore open my schedule again, once I'd already squeezed my way through a crowd of new students that appeared to be my age, and I'd found myself at Ms. Green's desk.

She looked rushed. Her brown hair was a mess, and her face looked like she hadn't slept in a day and a half. She slammed a stack of new looking files on the desk directly in front of me, and then noticed how I was standing there.

"Hi, Renesmee," She said, using my formal name as always. She was the only one I allowed to do that. "What's up?"

"Well," I began, and then I opened my crumpled up schedule. "I'm late to Brighton's. Can you please, please, please help me out?"

Her gaze met mine from down on the already almost ruined schedule. "You look different," She said skeptically, with maybe a note of concern in her voice. "Is something going on?"

"_No_," I said at first, but Matilda Green has this uncanny way of always knowing when I'm lying so I came clean. Sort of.

"Bad day," I hinted.

"If it's anything you need to talk about…" She said, glancing up at me while signing the pass, as if to guilt me.

"No. It really isn't anything," I said, trying to lie to her once again. "Just rain, and you know…" I added lamely.

"No I don't," She said, and I took the pass gratefully.

"Um, thanks!" I said, turning my back and bolting back through the crowd before Ms. Green could ask me about my horrific morning. I was pretty sure I'd bumped into something really cold on the way out, but I couldn't be sure since my mind was a hundred percent on getting this day over with.

I'd stopped at the music hall before heading to homeroom (since I had a pass) and I dropped my things off in the little room they leave for us to put our instruments in. By the time I finally got up to homeroom, I realized that Mr. Brighton's door was locked_: Wonderful._

I shook the door knob viciously. I pounded on it, and even groaned like a menace, but it still wouldn't budge. Nobody would answer the stupid door…or Mr. Brighton was just being his usual jerky self and not allowing anyone to let me in.

I finally got tired of pounding, and I left my fist hanging high up on the door. I leaned on the door, all my weight resting on my fist. I watched new freshmen, schedules in hand, lost and searching epically for their homerooms. I was once there too, two years ago. The only difference was that I'd never been to school before so I never formally learned how to read.

Finally the door lurched open. The problem was, I'd moved along with the door and I face-planted on the floor just inside. I could hear my best friends, Laine and Stephen laughing as I picked myself off of the tiles.

"That made my day," Stephen said, his face red from laughing so hard.

"Glad someone's having a good day," I muttered and fell into my seat.

_**A/N: Thank you SO much for reading this! It means so much. Obviously, it's not perfect, but I tried please give me some feedback and tell me what I can do better, and things you'd like me to continue to do! Look forward to alternating perspectives between Bella and Nessie! Coming soon! **_

_**xoxo sarahliz 3**_


	2. Drops Of Jupiter: Bella

Drops Of Jupiter

In the last decade and a half, my deepest desire was for my daughter to fall into my life somehow, by some miracle. I just hadn't thought that it would happen this way.

My eyes widened as a bronze-haired girl tumbled onto the floor of our new homeroom, and picked herself up, embarrassed. _That can't be her_, I told myself, _she'd be stronger_. _She wouldn't be clumsy._ But I had a gut feeling that mothers can only have: this had to be my daughter.

I glanced at my husband, Edward. He seemed to be thinking the same exact thing as I was, though the odds that we were right weren't in our favor, so he wasn't about to say anything out loud.

Suddenly, Mr. Brighton, who greatly reminded me of Ebenezer Scrooge, began to pace the front of his classroom. He slapped his ruler into his left palm as he went, as if he were about to slap the girl who had just come in late.

"Why are you tardy, Miss Black?" He asked her, his eyes narrowing viciously. My stomach grew light with so much anger, that I'd almost missed the part where he'd called her 'Miss Black.'

"I have a pass," She said with more confidence than I'd expected, and she got up out of her seat and slapped the yellow paper into the palm of his left hand where his ruler lay dormant. "If you don't like it, you can take it up with guidance," She said matter-of-factly.

The class gasped and made surprised noises as she, with a victorious look spread across her face, took her seat once again. The boy in the front row-Stephen Dallas-even began to clap.

The homeroom burst into applause, all except for my family, who, instead of clapping along, exchanged glances that were on the borderline between confused and nervous.

With a loud crack, Mr. Brighton slammed his meter stick down on 'Miss Black's' desk, but she didn't do so much as blink at him. She did however, narrow her eyes viciously as the class quieted down around her. She looked as though she was about to massacre Mr. Brighton with his own meter stick any time now.

"I'm sure you are well aware of the consequences, Renisma," He said, still tapping his ruler in his hand evenly, like a metronome. I could hear her exhale loudly in frustration as she let his slip go.

"She's _tardy, _" Stephen Dallas said bravely, "Not _retarded_."

"Mr. Dallas," Brighton said, sharply snapping his head in order to scowl at Mr. Dallas. "I would watch yourself if I were you…" He warned.

Stephen chuckled darkly, and fell backward into his seat. "I'm not you," He said smartly.

"Thank God for that," Muttered the girl who could possibly be my daughter. The black haired girl sitting on her left had given her a high five.

Mr. Brighton hadn't heard that, or he had just shaken it off. He smirked and sat down at his desk, sipping his coffee. "I suppose I can let it go this time, _Renisma._" He said in a threatening way which made me want to jump out of my seat and attack him, "Only because watching you fall onto the floor was _very_ entertaining." He grinned evilly.

"It's _Renesmee._ " Renesmee muttered loudly; defiantly, while glaring up at her teacher.

I watched as Alice's eyes widened, causing a ripple effect among my family. Not surprisingly, Edward wasn't as shocked at the rest of us. He probably knew that it was her from reading it out of her mind a few minutes after she entered. Still, it must have come as a big surprise. Our Renesmee was _here. Now. _

"Whatever," Mr. Brighton said to her, while rolling his eyes. He let the subject finally drop.

I watched Renesmee converse with her friends. She _definitely_ wasn't how I had expected her to be. She was dressed sloppily, as if she'd carelessly thrown on anything she could find in her drawer. In fact, she kind of reminded me of Jacob. Maybe that was a good sign…

I glanced at Edward, and back to Renesmee. "Is it really her?" I asked him, and he nodded once, still focusing on whatever she was thinking about. "What's going on?" I asked him, "Does she recognize us?"

"No," Edward said shaking his head, "She knows we're here, but she has no clue who we are." He added gravely. His expression looked worn and saddened. I'd never seen him look like this before.

"I don't think she's going to find out on her own…" Alice whispered, as an obvious implication.

"We can't just tell her right away," Rosalie whispered quickly. "It might scare her."

"How would it scare her?" I asked, while staring at my daughter. There was nothing that I wanted more than to have my daughter back.

"I think something's happened to her," Edward said, still focusing on her thoughts. "I don't think she likes to think about it…"

"Well, Jacob's here," Emmett pointed out.

"Do we _have _to talk to him?" Rosalie whined.

"If he's here we should," Jasper suggested.

"But we don't know if he's-" I began to say, but I was cut off by Alice.

"Look away!" She whispered loudly as a warning. When we did, her voice softened so that she could explain. "She sees us staring at her." Alice explained.

I sighed. It didn't make me feel very good when my own daughter walked into this room and didn't even recognize me. But at least she was safe, and still with Jacob. I had missed and worried about Jacob, too. Maybe talking to him would be a good thing…

The bell rang, as if it were reminding us that it was time again to put on the façade that we had made for ourselves to hide our true identities. As we stood up, Edward clasped my hand in his, and gave a reassuring grin as we followed our talkative teenage daughter out the door, listening to every nonsense word she said.

__**Thank you so much for reading this! As you might have figured out, each chapter has a theme. Last chapter was Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day, and this chapter's theme is Drops Of Jupiter by Train. You might also have figured out that I am also not Stephenie Meyer. (Yes, that was a disclaimer) Thank you for your reviews as well! They make my day! =) **


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